Starting Out
by karly05
Summary: Early in their romance, Ferb & Vanessa have lunch.  Rather inconsequential, but I felt like writing some F/V. Rating is just for a mention of divorce.


**A/N – This takes place the day after the events in Chapter 10 ("Caller") and Chapter 11 ("Hitting") of "Vignettes a la Carte," and about 10 days after "The Kiss." It's kind of inconsequential, but I've been scribbling on some F/V ideas and this was the first one I finished. Dan & Swampy still own all the important stuff.**

Starting Out

Vanessa could not get over Ferb's sweet set of custom wheels. On the outside, the car was a classic 2-door coupe from the 1950s, complete with jutting headlights and pointed tail fins. At first glance, the black and white interior looked authentic to the period, but it was fitted with modern seat belts and air bags, every high-tech gauge and sensor you could think of, and a killer sound system. Most striking of all, though, was the unique two-tone paint job, the hood and lower body a rich plum color, with the roof and trunk and a slash down the side in a soft shade of buttercream. It had taken Vanessa a while to realize why the odd combination looked vaguely familiar, and suited him so well. They were the colors she had seen him wearing every time they had crossed paths during the summer they had first met.

Ferb had made all of the modifications himself – a feat especially amazing considering that he'd had his driver's license for only about a week. He'd been working on the car for over a year, though – and she supposed that tricking out an old hot rod was a simple task for someone who had built roller coasters and rocket ships and a back yard ski resort at the age of ten. Now, Vanessa was riding with him, on the last day of her Thanksgiving break, to have lunch before she had to head back to college.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as he drove through a modest, older area on the outskirts of downtown Danville.

He replied with a small smile that said, _You'll see_, then added, "A little place I know. I think you'll like it." A block later, he amended this statement, with just a hint of anxiety, "That is, I hope you like it. If not, we can go somewhere else. Your choice."

Vanessa couldn't help noticing the sudden change in him. The serene lad who broke his silence only when he knew exactly what to say had taken to unexpected bouts of nervous blathering – well, what counted as blathering for him. She suspected that this was brought on by the fact that, in the few days since his sixteenth birthday, Ferb had gone from being 'just a friend' to being her boyfriend.

Now, he turned into the parking lot of a simple restaurant that looked about the same as it must have when his car was new. The sign on the roof said _Goldie's Diner_, and the glass windows on the front and sides boasted placards that read "BREAKFAST ALL DAY," "BEST BURGERS!" and "DAILY SPECIALS."

"Not the most elegant place," Ferb admitted, and she caught his uneasy blink as he checked for her reaction. "But the food is good, and it's fairly quiet. Shall we?"

"Sounds perfect." Vanessa reached over and gave his hand a calming squeeze before she got out of the car.

They were on the early side of lunch, and were soon seated in a two-person booth by the window. The hostess seemed to know Ferb by sight, as did the waitress who appeared almost at once to take their drink orders. Vanessa supposed that a green-haired customer would be hard to forget.

Perusing the menu, she asked him, "Any recommendations?"

"If you're still in the mood for breakfast, the combination plate is huge, and you can choose pancakes for your bread. Their burgers are very popular, and the specials are usually quite nice. My Dad says their meat loaf is just this side of Mum's," he noted.

The waitress brought them their drinks, a cherry limeade for Ferb and a simple iced tea for Vanessa, and asked if they were ready to order. Vanessa couldn't resist the prospect of a barbecue bacon cheeseburger topped with fried onion strings, although she hoped Ferb would still be willing to kiss her goodbye afterwards. She was surprised and amused when, in his precise British accent, he ordered the Chicken Fried Steak. Once the waitress had gone, he answered her curious look.

"It was my first taste of Real American Cooking when I was four. Dad brought me here a lot when we first moved to Danville," Ferb explained. "We still have lunch here now and then, just the two of us."

"I never would have guessed you were a Chicken Fried Steak man," she chuckled.

"I'm not, really," he insisted. "I only ever have it here. I'm a bit of a snob about it, frankly," he confessed, with a light chuckle.

Since he had mentioned his father, Vanessa ventured to ask, "So, how are your parents taking the news? About us," she clarified. At Ferb's insistence, once she was home for the Thanksgiving holiday, the pair of them had met separately with both sets of parents to declare their affections and announce their intention to start dating. Normally, Vanessa never would have volunteered to discuss her love life with her Mom and Dad, certainly not now that she was twenty-one. But Ferb was still sixteen, he knew that there would be concerns over the age difference between them, and he felt it was important for them to be up front with their families about their unusual romance. As awkward as it had been, Vanessa had to admit he was probably right.

"They're coming around," Ferb assured her. "Dad's been quite supportive, actually, now that he understands that you're not some mysterious temptress out to break my heart." He gave her a cute, blushing smile as he said this. "Mum's still making a fuss over the age thing, but I know she's been talking with your mother, and I think they're helping each other through it."

Vanessa nodded. "Yeah, I think it's a good thing that our Moms were already friendly." She mimicked her own mother's voice as she quoted her: "'Well, at least I know he's a nice boy.'"

"I must say, I'm glad your mother is so level-headed." Ferb shuddered slightly as he said, "I hate to think what your father might have done to me if she hadn't been there."

"Oh, don't give my Mom too much credit," Vanessa grinned. "If he hadn't been there, she probably would have done enough flipping out for both of them. But, once Dad starts getting crazy, she has to prove that she's right and he's being ridiculous, so that put her in your corner right away."

Ferb sipped at his drink before he said, "How did he react last night when you came home?"

"Oh, he griped a little," she glossed over the interrogation she'd gotten, "but he'll get used to it. You handled him brilliantly, by the way."

Ferb didn't look so certain of this, as he confessed, "I was afraid any other response would only have provoked him further. I sense he's a bit – protective."

"Try _over_-protective," she rolled her eyes. "I think he's going to like you, though, once he gets to know you."

Ferb shook his head. "I wish I shared your confidence."

"Trust me. Ask him a couple of questions about himself next time. And once he starts in on some tragic backstory, just nod and look sympathetic and let him blather. He'll warm up to you."

At this point, their food came, and they spent a couple of minutes getting settled and preparing to dig in. Vanessa noted the little ceramic cup of cream-colored sauce at the edge of her plate, and dipped a fry into it. "Mmm," was her immediate reaction, and she turned her plate so he could reach it. "Ferb, taste this. It's like a spicy ranch or something, it's really good."

Ferb had already cut off a bit of his gravy-covered steak and was moving it to the edge of her plate. Vanessa thought it was funny, how easily they had fallen into a habit of sharing food, going back to the early years of their friendship. She couldn't recall ever doing this with anyone else, but somehow it felt comfortable and natural to share with Ferb. Now he gave an appreciative "Mm" after dipping a couple of his green beans in her ranch sauce, and she picked up her fork to try the steak.

"This is good," she acknowledged. "I love the gravy."

"Oh, the gravy totally makes this," he agreed. He had asked for an extra cup of it on the side, and now nudged it toward her. "Feel free to dip, if you like."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Vanessa's burger was juicy and well-seasoned, although she had to lean over her plate to keep from dripping barbecue sauce on herself. At length, she paused to say, "Thanks for bringing me here, Ferb. This is great," she indicated her sandwich as she reached for another napkin. "Lunch is on me, by the way," she added, dipping a fry in his gravy.

"Mm, no," he objected, swallowing a mouthful of steak. "No, it's not."

"Yes. Yes, it is," she mimicked his phrasing as she wrinkled her nose at him. "You paid for dinner last night."

"And you paid for the movie," he countered.

"Which cost nowhere near as much as dinner," she pointed out. "And I had to practically twist your arm to let me do that."

"Worse than twisting my arm," he reminded her with a sly grin. "Surrender or the date ends here, with no kiss good night? You pull no punches, Miss Doofenshmirtz." The playful twinkle in his eye would have amused her if she wasn't beginning to feel frustrated by the conversation.

"Well, if that's the only way to get through to you," she defended herself.

"Moot point," Ferb dismissed this with a wave of his fork. "When a gentleman invites a lady out, he does not expect her to pick up the tab."

"You didn't invite me to lunch, I invited you," she argued.

"You said, 'Can we have lunch before I go?' I said, 'Of course,' and brought you here. I had no intention of making you pay for it." His blithe expression as he said this made it seem like nothing more than a bit of light banter.

"I'm just trying to be fair," Vanessa struggled to make him understand. "It's not as if I can't afford it."

"And it's not as if I can't, either," he assured her. "I have more than enough pocket money to entertain— "

"Urgh!" Vanessa interrupted him, falling back in her seat. "Please tell me this is _not_ what we're going to fight about!"

She closed her eyes for a moment in an effort to cool her emotions. When she opened them, she found Ferb looking at her with a startled expression, knife and fork frozen in the midst of cutting his steak. With a blink, he carefully put down his utensils, and softly said, "Vanessa…"

Just the sound of that gorgeous voice uttering her name soothed her a little. Behind his still, solemn expression, she could see him hunting for words, and she felt a slight hint of regret.

"I never meant to upset you," he said, with an earnest look. "I love you."

She sighed in response to this. "I know, Ferb… I love you, too. I'm just…" A sad frown creased her brow as she explained, "My parents always fought about money. All the time. They still do," she admitted, with a weary groan. "I think that's the biggest reason they got divorced." With a pleading look, she confessed, "I just don't want that to be us."

"It won't be." Ferb extended a hand toward her, and she took it thankfully. "I didn't realize… Please forgive me."

She squeezed his fingers, and offered, with a little smile, "Want some more fries?"

With his free hand, he plucked a couple of small ones from her plate and, returning the smile, said, "Thank you." Dipping them in her ranch sauce on the way, he added, "I want to be fair about this, too. It's only… well, I've never 'dated' before, but I thought it was proper for the gentleman to cover expenses. I wouldn't want you to think I was some sort of bounder." The teasing light that came back into his eyes at this made her chuckle.

"Ferb Fletcher, for as long as I've known you, you have never been less than a perfect gentleman. And that has nothing to do with paying for things."

A happy tinge of pink colored his cheeks as he let go of her to take up his knife and fork again. "If you're certain you'd like to take care of this," he indicated the table full of food, "I'll pick up the next one."

"Deal," she agreed, resuming the attack on her burger. "And feel free to order dessert," she added. "There's a piece of chocolate cream pie in the front case that's calling my name."

THE END


End file.
